Hermione's Harry

Author's Note: Okay, I have taken everyone's almost unanimous votes into account. I'd like to take a moment to remind everyone that I DO NOT intend to reinstate the friendship between Harry and Ron, and would not do so whether Ron was redeemed or not. One of you many wonderful individuals that were kind enough to review mentioned that Ron's worst nightmare would be to fade into the background of Hogwarts. I agree, but I am not sure if I'm going to do that or not. Very few of you gave an actual opinion on whether or not Ron should be redeemed, and mostly stated that his friendship with Harry should not be mended. Again, whether he was redeemed in this story or not I would not mend their friendship. Also, there was also a mention of bringing Neville into a new "Golden Trio" and I'm playing with the idea in my head currently. If I decide to incorporate that possibility in my story it won't come up until at least the next year in the sequel, but it's likely that I will because it sounds amazing and there is so much I can do with it. Also, I only have a couple more chapters planned out for this story, and then I'll start officially working on and posting the sequel. Also, I've started working on another story which I haven't titled yet. Don't kill me please, I know I've got a lot going on. As always, I appreciate all the support from everyone!

Chapter 12

It only took a few days for Hermione's hands to heal, but the hate mail kept coming. Harry's brave and confident girlfriend began burning the letters instead of reading them, but that didn't stop the howlers. Hermione never complained of course, simply shrugged off the irritation and went about her day as normal. Harry on the other hand was ready to shove Rita Skeeter down a well and hunt down every jealous witch that had targeted his girlfriend.

Every time Hermione reminded him that she could handle herself, all he could think was that he was failing her. He'd promised that anyone disrespecting her would regret being born, and sworn that he wouldn't tolerate any negativity heading her way.

Over a week went by before Harry finally voiced his anger toward himself to Hermione. She'd simply told him that everything was fine, she didn't care one bit what anyone thought of her, and that she loved him dearly. Now he felt as though he was going mad. And what does a famous teenage wizard do when he feels as though he's going mad?

"That is it!" Harry announced as he read the latest Daily Prophet. Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to stir their potion. Surprisingly, they'd made great progress and would likely be able to take the first potion shortly after the final task.

"What's she written this time?" Hermione asked, though her tone was full of disinterest. Sure, she would have preferred that Skeeter keep out of her private life, and still hated the woman very much, but the so-called reporter's lie-filled "articles" were no longer of any interest to Hermione.

Harry crumpled the paper into a ball and aimed it directly into Moaning Myrtle's toilet. "If that irritating witch calls me a fragile hero, or makes you out to be some sort of slag with a talent for love potions one more time I'll figure out how to transfigure myself into a bloody dragon and spit fire at her! This is driving me mad!"

Hermione giggled and began to put her things away. "You say that all the time anymore, Harry. Why does it matter what she says? You know I'm not pouring potions down your throat and I've never viewed you as fragile."

Harry sighed and leaned back against the sinks. "You know why it matters to me Mione," he said while crossing his arms over his chest. "You're my witch, and I don't take kindly to you being pulled into this nonsense. It's bad enough that I'm stuck dealing with it, I don't want you to suffer too."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm not suffering, Harry. My only concern is how the bloody hell she is managing to get all these exclusive interviews and legitimate information, the few times she puts any truth into her articles."

Harry growled and hooked his fingers through the loops of Hermione's jeans, pulling her to him. "I just want to be normal Mione. I want to snog and shag my astoundingly beautiful girlfriend, be embarrassed by my parents for being too affectionate, and be free of the stares." Hermione nodded slowly and pressed her hands against Harry's chest. "I want to have you all to myself, without having to deal with irritations like Rita Skeeter making things difficult. Is that too much to ask?" He asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe wizarding society thinks that it really is too much to ask."

Harry groaned and gripped Hermione's waist, pressing her against him hard. "Fuck wizarding society. I want it to go away, so it should go away!"

Hermione giggled again and kissed Harry softly. Harry kissed her in a slightly more forceful manner and his hands traveled up her back. Hermione shivered and wrapped her arms about his neck, letting go in his arms and-

"You two are just so bloody irritating! All you do is snog, snog, snog, shag each other senseless, ignore me, and brew your damn potion! Can't you do any of that somewhere else?!" Myrtle asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Harry groaned in frustration and moved his hands from beneath Hermione's shirt to his jean's pockets. Hermione turned around to face Myrtle with a scowl and leaned back against Harry. "We do all of that except for brewing our potion in other places Myrtle, but we're just so in love we never WANT to keep our hands to ourselves. Don't you ever explore public parts of the castle?" Hermione asked with an annoyed tone of voice.

Myrtle stuck her tongue out at Hermione and floated over. "If I were alive I'd probably be far more appealing than you, cat girl!" She shouted and let out a sob before diving back into her toilet. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to face Harry.

"She is so annoying!" Harry let out a chuckle, agreeing with her before resuming their activities before being interrupted.

Hermione wasn't sure how she managed it, but for three days following Harry's outburst over the papers in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, she had managed to keep him calm and convince him to ignore Rita Skeeter. Unfortunately, it did not last.

Hedwig flew down to Harry during breakfast the next day. The letter she delivered was from Rita Skeeter.

Mr. Potter,

I trust that you along with your darling witch have finally learned your lesson about making powerful enemies. If you would like the articles to stop, I suggest we meet for an interview at the Three Broomsticks this weekend before the final task. You are welcome to bring your girlfriend along, of course. If I do not see you there, I will seek out further humiliating details from other unsavory candidates.

Warm regards,

Rita Skeeter.

Harry could feel something within him ignite and he left the great hall with the letter from Rita Skeeter clutched in his hand. Hermione watched her boyfriend leave with such rage and wanted to calm him down, but she was sure it wouldn't work this time. She was quickly learning that Harry had issues with anger. He was always a sweet and attentive boyfriend and he'd never been cruel or violent with her, but with all the pain he'd suffered through and the constant spotlight on him it was no wonder Harry often went looking for trouble or danger anymore. He was searching for an outlet… a way to let out the anger he must constantly feel trying to come out.

She sighed and set down her fork, trying to think of any and every thing she could do in order to help Harry, but nothing much came to mind. Encouraging him to talk about it would only make him want to leave the room, and everything else was either too far-fetched or stupid to work. He'd know what was going on if she mentioned the almost constant dueling going on between Ron and himself, or suggested that they go looking for trouble together.

Hermione hung her head and sighed again, trying to think of anything that would help. She felt a need to help Harry, an obligation to provide an outlet that would alleviate the intense rage he felt.

Meanwhile, Harry was storming through the corridors, looking for someone, anyone that he could fight with. This time he didn't want to use his wand, he wanted to feel his fists collide with someone's face. He couldn't take this anymore, it was enough to make him scream. He wasn't a circus freak damn it! He was a human being with a life and someone to love for once. He was desperate for some damn privacy. Lockhart's stupid old statements ran through his head. "Fame is a fickle friend Harry," "Celebrity is as celebrity does."

Eventually he found what he was looking for. Ron was lounging under a tree outside the castle, most likely enjoying a moment of peace that could and probably would stretch on for years for the annoying red-head.

It was infuriating, thinking of the differences between himself and Ron. Ron knew his parents, had a ton of siblings, and lived in a house that was so warm with human compassion that he could never catch cold. So what if he didn't have a lot of money? What was the problem with not being famous? Why did he think that it was necessary to outshine his many brothers? Only three of them had left school and they all went off to find their own bliss. Charlie obviously had the most exciting job, tending to dragons. Bill worked with the goblins at Gringotts, and Percy was Barty Crouch's faithful errand boy accustomed to being called the wrong name. Ron's time may not be in school, but if he gave a damn and actually put forth some damn effort in his life he could easily do something worthwhile.

Yet all Ron wanted was to be in Harry's shoes. Harry wondered if Ron would still want that if he knew how horrible Harry's life tended to be. Sure, he had a beautiful and strong-willed girlfriend that he loved with all his heart, and she made life worth living most days. But all the negatives had a way of stacking up around him all the time. Yes, he was famous. He couldn't walk down the street without being stopped for an autograph, or a hand shake, or a damn picture. Did Ron really want his life to be put on pause for everyone that wanted some small piece of him? Did Ron really want to have grown up without any siblings, or his parents? As far as Harry was concerned it would take a lot of hate to want to be without your family, and he should know considering how he felt about the Dursleys, his blood relatives. And yeah, he was rich, but he'd give away all of his gold for one moment with his parents.

Before he could approach Ron, he felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her and saw tears in her eyes. "Is it really going to make you feel better?" She asked slowly, gesturing to Ron.

Harry shrugged and sighed. "I don't fucking know, but this is driving me crazy. I've never had to deal with my fame like this before. People have mostly respected that I want to be left alone or I just didn't matter as much most of the time. Now everyone wants and piece of me. Look at this!" He said and held up the letter in his hand.

Hermione took the paper from him and read Rita's message. It made her angry too, but not because the blonde bitch with painted on eyebrows was butting into their lives again. It made her angry because Harry deserved better than this. She sighed and looked up at Harry. "Are you going to take her offer?" She asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders again. "I don't know. I don't want to give in and give people what they want from me, but I want this to go away. And we've already looked into wizarding law, and "journalists" aren't held under the same restrictions as they would be in the muggle world. It's almost like they don't know the meaning of the words libel and slander. We can't fight her in a legal sense, and if we don't do what she wants we'll be facing more and more far-fetched articles and cruel hate mail. I'm tired of you having to suffer because she's a horrible little insect."

Hermione nodded slowly, and her eyes widened. She grabbed Harry by his shirt and pulled him to her, kissing him forcefully. "That's it!" She yelled. "Harry, you're a genius! It all makes sense now!" She said and pulled him by his hand to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Harry was about as confused as he was when they went back in time last year before she explained. Now, as they raced to the safety and privacy of the bathroom they'd been brewing the animagus potion in, Harry felt quite the opposite of a genius.

"Hermione will you please tell me what they bloody hell you mean?" Harry asked as Hermione locked the door behind them.

She turned to Harry with a huge grin and kissed him again. "She's an animagus! Do you remember the second task? You told me your life meant nothing to you and that I was a different story, and then you pulled a beetle out of my hair! Beetles aren't active in water! You mentioned being bugged, but the substitutes muggles use for magic don't work here! We're going to that interview, and we'll slip her a potion that will force her into her animagus state. If I'm wrong, nothing will happen. If I'm right we've got her trapped!" Hermione shouted with glee and kissed Harry again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Harry responded eagerly and kissed her back with a desperate passion. No doubt about it, his girlfriend was brilliant, and he loved her.